


Through the Crucible

by Beathen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Captivity, Gang Rape, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 19:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5304371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beathen/pseuds/Beathen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has been captured by unnamed enemies... only one person can rescue him now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Crucible

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal on September 25, 2005. I own nothing - it all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

He thought he knew what pain meant. Pain was a broken arm, skinned knees, a twisted ankle. Yeah, maybe in his former life. His pre-captured life. Now, pain meant real torture – whips, chains, cuffs, unrelenting crucios leaving him twitching for hours, deprivation of food, water, clothes and light. It didn’t start all at once, though. He was eased into it, losing one meal, then two. Being stripped and hung by his hands so that he couldn’t touch anything but the floor beneath his feet. That was pain. 

Well, physical pain anyway. The psychological pain was different, but it didn’t hurt any less. He was told he was dirty, nothing, a failure, something to be used and nothing more. But he was reminded every morning how many days had passed since he’d been captured. It was his only link to the outside world, but after 45 days had passed without rescue, that, too, became torture. His friends had abandoned him or they would never find him now. The trail had gone cold. He was alone.

After 55 days had passed, a new torture was forced upon him – humility and degradation. Into the darkness of his cell a figure would come. He would force Harry to his knees and have him suck the cock thrust at him. He would listen to his captor reminding him he wouldn’t be saved. No one cared. He was told his friends were dead, listed off by name to further confirm the supposed truth. Tears ran down his face, still bobbing up and down making the cock spurt into his throat and mouth. When it was done, he was alone again to weep for himself and for the others who had died.

After 65 days, the torture again took a new twist. He was bound to the floor on his stomach, spread-eagle. With no preparation, the unnamed captor would thrust himself into Harry’s backside, stretching, ripping and pulling the last of Harry’s dignity from him. But it wasn’t just one person this time. Up to four people would fuck themselves into Harry’s sore arse, straining for release. He always cried, barely hearing the taunts of his rapists. He always bled, the residue drying on him, itching him.

After 90 days, his world ended at the sight of Severus Snape opening the door to the cell. Harry burst into sobs again, his humiliation and pain complete. It never occurred to Harry, though, that his captors always came under the cloak of night, hiding their faces, and Snape came in the light. He was unaware of being unbound and wrapped in a cloak to cover his thin, naked and broken form. Awareness came into a little focus when strong arms reached under him to pick him up. He was being cradled against a warm, strong body; one who smelled of potion fumes and smoke. Harry clung to Snape with all the strength he had left, heaving a sigh. His world went dark.

Harry awoke from consciousness slowly. The soft bed around him warming him. He opened his eyes to see a figure dressed in black standing at the end of the bed and scrambled up to the headboard, pulling the sheets with him, his only defense. The figure walked to the side of the bed as Harry’s eyes grew large. Without touching him, the figure held his arm out to him, glasses resting within the palm of the upturned hand. Harry grabbed them quickly and shoved them onto his face. The figure was Snape.

“Harry,” he said, his eyes never leaving the young man’s face. “Tell me what happened.” A tear ran down Harry’s face, and then another.

“Hold me, please?” His voice broke at the request. Snape obliged, sitting on the bed, cradling Harry against his chest, while listening to the tale of torture. He finished the story and a fresh wave of sobs overtook him. Snape rubbed Harry’s back offering what comfort he could. When the tears subsided, Harry leaned up and kissed Snape tentatively on the mouth. He needed to know a touch that was gentle and warm, and possibly loving, to chase away everything that had come before. Snape allowed the kiss, but only for a moment, until he broke away, questioning in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” There was no malice or fear in his voice, only concern.

“I need to feel...something...good. Something safe.” Harry’s voice betrayed no fear, only pleading. “Will you help me?” The Potions Master thought for a moment, staring into green eyes desperate for real love. 

“Yes.”

He leaned over and kissed Harry tenderly. There was no roughness, just gentle caresses with his lips and tongue, fighting away the memories of Harry’s imprisonment. Harry kissed back and threw his arms around the Potions Master’s neck, his hands fingering the ebony hair.

Snape broke away from Harry’s mouth to trail kisses onto his eyelids, forehead, jaw, the shell of each ear, both sides of the neck and the hollow of his throat. Their breath was coming faster now as Snape’s hands moved down Harry’s torso to rest on the bottom cuff of the shirt Harry was wearing and paused, a question unspoken, and waited for a signal to proceed. Harry nodded.

Snape slowly pulled the shirt off him to reveal welts and scars crisscrossing the pale, young skin. Harry lowered his head in shame, trying to hide the scars with his arms. Gently pulling the arms away Snape leaned over Harry and began to kiss each scar and welt located below. Harry sighed, relaxing into the gentle touches and kisses.

Harry felt compassion and care with each kiss Snape bestowed on him. The dark memories of the previous months began to loosen their hold on his mind as the pleasure of careful touches overwhelmed him. He never knew that touch could be so exquisitely wonderful, making him ache for more. The erection that had been steadily growing in his groin was now pressing firmly against his pajama bottoms, becoming almost painful. He whimpered slightly.

“It’s okay, Harry. I’m going to take care of you.” 

That voice, barely above a whisper, hardened Harry further. Snape slipped his long fingers under the waistband and slid the trousers down Harry’s legs, careful not to catch the straining prick. He continued kissing his way down one leg and up the other, pausing momentarily to inhale the musky scent of arousal in the nest of hair at the juncture of Harry’s thighs. He licked the drop of precome gathered at the tip of Harry’s cock as the young man twitched and moaned in surprise. In one fluid motion, Snape encompassed the prick fully within his mouth.

“Oh!” The limited experience Harry had with pleasure had not prepared him for how good this felt. Wet, slick heat sliding up and down his prick seemed to devour him as potion-stained fingers fondled his balls. All these sensations combined sent tremors through his body. Mumbled words tumbled out of his mouth as he was stroked and licked faster and faster until he felt he couldn’t bear it any more. Suddenly he was orgasming harder than he had ever done before. Streaks of white flashed across his vision and his body went taut. Snape continued his ministrations on Harry’s prick until the last of his come had been sucked from him.

Finally, it was over and Harry let out a relieved sigh, not realizing he had held his breath. Snape had once again moved up the bed to kiss him. He could taste himself in that kiss and he liked it. He liked what Snape had done to him, with him. He felt safe and, in a way, loved. 

Harry would get payback for what had been done to him. But not today. Revenge could wait until tomorrow. Today he would curl up in Snape’s arms, grateful for the loving caresses and comforting embrace, and sleep peacefully. Now he was safe.

~~The End.~~


End file.
